Something to go home to
by mrastounding
Summary: Movie-AU; sometimes all you need to cope with a bad situation, and/or a broken heart, is someone who can relate to you; Susan/OC
1. Chapter 1

Author's note:

This just a random idea I had that wouldn't go away. Can't really promise where this will go, but I'm fairly confident that it can and will be reasonably done, so be nice in your reviews, okay? Anyway, on with the story.

Chapter 1

A New Arrival

Unknown* POV (* haven't really introduced the character yet)

Having just woken with a start from a stress-inducing nightmare, I quickly reached for the lamp in my cubicle so I could check my watch, the fact that I'd woken up just two minutes before the alarm went off in the rear of my mind. I sighed with moderate relief when I saw that my heart rate was under 150. Waving away a few of the buildings personnel, I shook my head. "When will they realize that unlike some of their other subjects, I DON'T have any plans to get back to my old life," I said before sighing, "that is if I still could."

Perhaps now is a good time to explain what the bleep is going on. First off, my name is Dr. Floyd Flagg, though the government workers who run this place know me by a different name: The Leviathan. You see, two years ago, I was contracted by NASA to help investigate some strange energy readings that a satellite picked up in a relatively unexplored region of the Grand Canyon. Being the leading expert in abnormal energy, I went to check it out with my assistant and wife of about two months, Dr. Francisca Umber, though I usually referred to her as "Fran" when being casual. Little did I know that this would be the last time I would ever see her.

The source of the strange energy turned out to be what at first glance looked to be part of a damaged satellite or something. Upon closer inspection, I had dismissed that theory and been able to immediately figure out some things: this was actually the propulsion system of some sort of space craft, likely which had been destroyed via impact, perhaps a meteor. It's fuel seemed to be some sort of radioactive liquid, and that the said liquid was actually quite similar to our world's gasoline. That last part was especially troublesome to me, seeing how some of the ship's lose wiring had just set the still leaking fuel ablaze! Those who had come with us quickly fled, and we soon took the same action, but something stopped us less then a couple of yards later.

We were just about to pass what I guess was the edge of the blast zone, when Fran tripped and fell. I quickly went back for, only to discover that a wall of fire was heading right towards us. Acting on instinct, I hastily placed my wife inside a crevice in the rocks, just in time to take the full force of the blast. Needless to say, I passed out, the last thing I remember being something that seemed akin to primal rage.

While I was out of it for who knows how long, I had time to gaze upon memories I didn't really know I had. You see, I'm usually try to be a fairly under-control person, not even being one to curse. Yet despite this, throughout the duration of these "memories," I thought I saw what looked to be a dark cloud gathering and someone, or some THING, sounding similar to that of a bloodthirsty animal. Not that I blamed it, especially since I seemed to be reliving events I had tried to shove into the back of my mind, from my mother's death when I was three to my father law committing heinous crimes to keep me and my future wife separated before eventually being caught and given the death penalty.

The last image I saw scared me the most: I was looking into a mirror, but the image I saw wasn't my own, and yet it was. I've since learned that the image, which looked more like a brown ogre with red eyes and green hair then my usual white-skinned, blue eyed, and brown haired "normal" self, was the very essence of all the pain that I tried to bottle up, the very soul of the Leviathan. I guess never realized that a bottles can become a pressure vessel and the more you add to it's contents, the more powerful the force inside it grows. The thing about that power inside though: all it really needs to be released is a way out.

When I finally woke up, I was in this faculty. I learned that though I saved her from the blast, she still ended up dying due to some rubble from "my" first rampage. She managed to calm me down before I nearly annihilated the National Guard. I had apparently helped a few people who were caught in the crosshairs, but nobody is going to praise someone who destroyed at least half a dozen military vehicles without any marks to show for it: believe me when I say that there's not too many injuries I sustain in that state which stick around for long.

Whatever the case, unlike Missing Link, Dr. Cockroach, Insectosaurus, and I guess B.O.B., I don't have anything to go back to if I ever got out of here. That's why I've decided to try and find a way to control my new powers to use to help people like I once did in the past, not that it's been easy. Then again, nothing ever is.

Normal POV

Suddenly Dr. Cockroach burst into the room and declared, "You'll never guess what just happened." "Insectosaurus finally went into metamorphosis? B.O.B. ate the kitchen sink? You ended up doing something stupid?" the fellow doctor guessed. "No, no, and that's never going to happen," the insect hybrid deadpanned, "They've captured another." Having just taken a sip of water, Floyd's eyes went wide before he did a spit take. "WHAT? Why are we still standing…here then?" he asked as he noticed the mad scientist was already gone.

(space bump)

"I'll never understand how if our IQ's are nearly identical YOU are the one who ends up with powers under your complete control," Floyd whined. Dr. Cockroach probably would have replied with something smug, but Missing Link shushed him as a VERY large figure entered the room beyond the door they were all hiding behind. As the others got ready to greet the one the government had dubbed Ginormica, the former energy specialist felt something deep in his heart: something he thought had died along with his wife.

To be continued…

Author's note:

Anyone care to guess which "monster" Floyd is a parody of? Just kidding: it's kind of obvious, right? Anyways, hope you liked this and until next time, everyone have a good evening/morning/whatever time period it is in your part of the world.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note:

Just thought I'd let you know that there will be some concepts from the TV series in this story, but nothing too major. Anyways, enjoy.

Chapter 2

Old friends reunited

Susan's POV

I had just entered a large room, which was saying something, seeing how I was now as tall as a skyscraper, when suddenly, I got the notion that I was being watched. This was soon confirmed when I heard voices coming from what appeared to be a small doorway. Well, as small as any average garage door would be, but, come on: I'm so big, they'd likely made up the word to describe it. I mean, ginormic isn't even in the dictionary, right?

Getting back on topic, I got down on the ground to get a better look, but it seemed that everyone who might have been there quickly moved out of my line of sight. Scratch that: there was one who just stood there, apparently stunned at what he was seeing. I don't really blame him: I'm not exactly the same person who was about to marry Derek Dietl what I'm guessing to be a few days back. Still, I found myself staring as well: standing right in front of my face is another human being who had apparently been sent to whatever or wherever this place is.

I couldn't understand it, though: for what POSSIBLE reason would they capture a 25-year-old Caucasian brown-haired man standing about 5-foot-8 and currently wearing glasses, a white polo shirt, and black sweatpants have done to deserve being here? Before I could ponder it any longer, I heard some machinery working behind me and some sort of spout place what I'm guessing to be today's meal on the giant table I saw earlier. The man seemed to be trying to process things, judging by how he was just standing there, so I decided to go over to the table and wait for either the guy to stop doing the statue imitation or for the ones who were hiding to let me see them: whichever came first.

Floyd's POV

Wow: I never thought I'd see another relatively unchanged human step inside the walls of this facility, let alone a familiar face. The white hair is new, but I'm actually surprised and a little hurt that Susan Murphy, my childhood friend, didn't seem to recognize me when I froze up like that. To be fair though, the last time she saw me was when we were nine or ten, so I guess it's to be expected. I just hope that she'll remember who I am after I've dropped some hints, since I could use all the comfort and support I can get. Wait a minute: PLEASE don't tell me that the others aren't doing what I think they are.

Susan's POV

I couldn't shake it: something about that guy seemed familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Before I was able to ponder it too deeply, though, I heard something scurry along the floor behind me. "Hello? Is that you, mysterious man who has yet to speak to me?" I questioned, before sensing that whoever or whatever it was now was standing behind what reminded me of the slop they used to make us eat on mystery meat day back in grade school. As I starred at it for a good ten seconds, a head popped out, revealing a man with the head of a cockroach. "Hello," he stated.

Floyd's POV

I chuckled a bit as my old pal displayed her old squeamishness, before wincing as she proceeded to beat the stuffing out of my intellectual equal with a spoon. Having been on the wrong side of her tough gal beatings once or twice, I knew it couldn't be too pleasant for him right now. It was only when she stated, "You…talk," right as she slipped and fell on B.O.B., that I remembered that she wasn't used to this sort of thing. That's why I decided to intervene and try to make the transition easier, as SOON as The Missing Link gives me the cue I need.

Susan's POV

As soon as that roach man got done reminding that weird blob to breath, some sort of fish-thing popped up in front of my face. "I know what you're thinking," he stated, "First day of prison and you want to take the toughest guy in the yard: well, I'd like to see you try." Just as I was beginning to think I was going mad, a mysterious male voice stated, "Funny how that's the same thing you told ME before you ended up being thrown through a wall because you wouldn't stop harassing me." Turning around, I saw the same brown-haired man from earlier approach me and lightly smile, "Good to see you again, Hash Browns," he remarked, causing my eyes to widen.

Floyd's POV

As her stunned expression slowly turned into a smile, I was relieved as she stated, "Circumstances aside, it's good to see you, too, Bacon Bits." We both laughed as this was a call-back to the way we first met: during summer camp when we were five, we ending up sitting next to each other during breakfast after we BOTH were unlucky enough to not get a suitable portion. We ended up sharing the stuff we had somehow gotten lucky on, me having a suitable amount of bacon bits and her having more then enough hash browns. "Floyd, you KNOW the newbie?" the Missing Link inquired, to which I stated, "You could say that, though I don't recall Susan Murphy having white hair when the foster care system forced us to part ways." It was at THAT moment that General Monger came in on a jet pack.

Author's note:

I decided that somebody that Susan had known in her past would be able to help her cope better then a complete stranger. Sorry if the ending was a bit of a cliffhanger, but trust me that it's like this for a reason. Anyways, hope you liked this.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note:

I just wanted to let you guys know that the hiatus is over, hopefully for good. I can't really promise anything though, since my computer's been giving me more problems than should be allowed. In any case, I think I've worked out a way to keep this story going. Anyways, enjoy.

Chapter 3

I won't leave you alone

Floyd's POV

"So this is your life now, huh?" Susan remarked as Dr. Cochroach did some calculations on a chalkboard, "Testing creatures that officially don't exist?" "Not exactly," I replied, briefly looking up from a microscope that had a sample of my old friend's blood, collected from a nosebleed she had, on the slide, "I'm one of the chief scientists in this facility, but like you, I'm ALSO a prisoner here. Rest assured though, it's my own choice." "I don't understand: why would you WILLINGLY let yourself be cut off from your old life," she asked, to which I yelled, "BECAUSE EVEN THOUGH I COULD ESCAPE FROM HERE AT ANY TIME, IT WOULDN'T DO ME ANY GOOD!"

Susan's POV

I watched with intrigue as my fellow captives suddenly ceased what they were doing at the sound of his sports watch give the signal that his heart rate was getting close to 160 beats per minute, and climbing. "I didn't just lose my status of a normal person when I was exposed to radioactive fuel made by some alien race, or flamial, as the government has come to name it: I lost EVERYTHING!" My friend yelled, not seeming to notice that his pulse was steadily approaching 200, or that multiple guys with guns were beginning to appear, "My only home was destroyed, the only living family members want nothing to do with me, and the woman who became my wife is currently taking a dirt nap!" Gasping at his misfortune, I opened my mouth to apologize, only to be cut off by him yelling, "And the worst part is that even before the accident, all anyone's done to me is treat me like some wild animal. I can really only think of two people who I don't want to lash out at for treating me like a freak, but it seems I was wrong when I thought that the one known as Susan Murphy might be able to understand. All anyone sees in me is a monster!"

Right then and there, I was going to tell him otherwise, but what happened next stunned me so much, I was left speechless: right as his pulse hit 200, my old friend's eyes became bloodshot, followed by the freakiest transformation I've ever seen. His skin became a muddy brown, followed by his hair becoming a grassy green. His entire body became riddled with muscle, which was kind of a bad thing, I guess, since only a small portion of his pants stayed intact once it was all over. The whole time, the guards were pelting him with bullets, but this thing that had taken the place of my friend just shrugged them off like they were water balloons. All the other monsters had taken shelter, and seeing how the guards were backing up, I could tell that short of an atomic bomb, NOTHING was going to stop him.

That's when I realized that the best way to get him to stop was to have him calm down, or maybe help him out in doing so. Taking a chance, I quickly grabbed him. He struggled a bit, but I stood firm. "Listen to me, Floyd," I said, not even caring that the government and the creature itself had dubbed this creature the Leviathan, "I know you're angry and upset, and I don't blame you for it: life has dealt you a horrible hand, but that doesn't mean you have to deal with this on your own. I was captured and sent here on my wedding day, I don't even know if I could fit into a house anymore, and don't even get me started on how my family's probably going to react if I end up being stuck like this forever."

The creature seemed to cease his struggle physically, but I could tell that my old friend was STILL putting up a fight mentally. "I don't know how things are going to turn out for us," I continued, "but no matter what happens, I will NEVER leave you to wallow in pain like this." As he started to change back, I smiled, knowing that my little pep talk had worked. As his "human" eyes looked into mine, I felt compelled to speak what was in my heart: "I won't let you be alone in this: I promise." The guards and our cellmates shared looks of awe and confusion as the man in front of me grabbed onto me, crying softly, while I just rubbed his back and kept repeating that it was going to be alright. We stayed like that for an hour or so before someone had the nerve and/or the courage to approach with a fresh set of clothes.

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Declaration of War

Susan's POV

To say that Floyd was grateful that I stopped him from hurting anyone would be the understatement of the century. Seems that, with a little help from Dr. Cockroach and a few lab technicians that owed him a favor or two, he somehow managed to create a devise that would allow me to return to a normal height for 24 hours JUST to show how sorry he was that I'd seen his "other half." The only down side of the invention was that it needed a 12 hour resting and/or recharging period between uses, not that I'm complaining: it STILL beats worrying about stepping on someone 24/7.

I WILL, however, say that I've recently been feeling conflicting feelings. On one hand, I'm already engaged to Derek, but on the other, Floyd's been more considerate of me then the weatherman ever was. I should probably talk to him about this at some point.

Three weeks later…

President Hathaway's POV

I had nearly lost my patience listening to everyone talking about the alien robot that landed in California. After one of my advisors said something about Oprah, I'd finally had enough. "Hang it all," I groaned, getting up and going towards a wall with the admittedly oversized buttons on it, "What's the point? It's a disaster." I had JUST placed my hand on one of the said buttons when everyone started to panic. "That button launches all of our nuclear missiles," Cole reminded me. Mentally berating myself for not remembering that, I asked, "Well then, which one gets me a latte?" "Uh, that would be the OTHER one, sir?" the Advisor we had come to calling "Wedgie" replied.

As I poured myself some espresso, I decided to let some of my frustration known. "What idiot designed this thing?" I all but demanded. "You did, sir," Wedgie reminded me, upon which I felt like face palming. "Fair enough," I said, keeping my cool, before yelling, "Wilson, fire somebody!" As he went off to do so, I continued, "Listen up! I'm not going down as the President who was in office when the world came to an end so somebody think of something and think of it fast!" Taking a sip, I found myself thinking, "That's a good cup of joe."

At that moment, the door to the situation room opened and my colleague, General Monger came, zipping up his pants, having just finished using the scanner. "Mr. President," he declared, "Not only do I have an idea, but I have a plan." Parachuting onto the lower level, he began with, "Now conventional weapons have no affect on this thing, and we ALL know nukes ain't an option." "Sure they are," I stated, gesturing towards the button, "I just…" I decided to stop when everyone started to panic again.

"I'm not gonna to kid you, Mr. President," the general deadpanned, grabbing onto me, "These are dark times. The odds are against us. We need a Hail Mary pass. We need raw power." Bringing his face to mine, he simply stated, "We need…MONSTERS." "Monsters, of course," I declared, "It's so obvious." Suddenly realizing something, however, I continued with, "I…I'm not following you."

"Over the last 50 years, I have captured monsters on the rampage and locked them up a secret prison facility," the general explained, "So secret that the mere mention of the name is a federal offense." I paused to ponder this as I heard someone demonstrate what the general meant.

General Monger's POV

Bringing up the files from the base, I declared, "Mr. President, say hello to Insectosaurus." I almost couldn't blame the feminine shriek that was a result of the news footage we'd managed to confiscate: almost. "Miss Ronson, please," I said with disdain, "Nuclear radiation turned him from a small grub into a 350-foot tall monster that attacked Tokyo. Here we have the Missing Link…" After Miss Ronson screamed again, I went on to say, "20,000 year old fish-man was thawed out by scientists. He escaped and went on a rampage at his old watering hole." Bringing up some vintage lab footage, I continued with, "This fellow is Dr. Cockroach, Ph.D., one of the most brilliant men in the world. He designed a scientific machine that would give humans the cockroach's ability to survive. Unfortunately there was a side effect." I didn't even pretend to be surprised when Miss Ronson screamed again.

As I declared, "Now we call this thing B.O.B.…" Miss Ronsin screamed again. "STOP DOING THAT!" I demanded. Regaining my composure, I stated, "A genetically-altered tomato was combined with a chemically altered ranch-flavored dessert topping at a snack food plant. The resulting goop gained consciousness, and became an indestructible gelatinous mass." Bringing up the file on our facilities part-time scientist, I declared, "Now this fellow, Dr. Floyd Flagg, might look harmless enough, but after an accident involving a mysterious fluid from space, he gained a dark side." As Miss Ronsen screamed again, I yelled, "WILL SOMEONE GET HER OUT OF HERE?!" As the woman was restrained, I calmed down, saying, "Thank you. While we have yet to know the full extent of the power of the creature known as the Leviathan, we DO know that he is driven by rage. Any time this expert on abnormal energy gets angry or stressed enough, he gains strength that is nearly beyond limit. In fact, he's the only resident of our prison that has ever managed to escape. To be fair though, he DID end up turning himself back in."

"And finally, I give you our LATEST edition, Ginormica," I declared, only to be interrupted by ANOTHER shrill scream, this time from the President himself. Clearing his throat, he asked me to continue. Shaking off the awkwardness, I stated, "Her entire body radiates with pure energy, giving her enormous strength and size. Though one of my scientists HAS made some progress in allowing her access to a normal height, it seems that her default is just shy of 50 feet tall." Displaying all six inmates side by side, I declared, "Sir, these monsters are our best and only chance to defeat that robot." One complaint that was quickly silenced later, the President found himself agreeing.

Author's note:

Those of you reading this are probably thinking something like, "Hey, didn't this guy already do the scene where General Monger announced that they'll be getting out?" and the answer is "No, no I didn't"; put simply, I'll be inserting a few of my own scenes into this story to help develop Floyd, his character, and his relationship with Susan; don't worry, though: I'm going to attempt not to pull any of the scenes from the original movie


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note:

Sorry about the amount of time taken to post this: truth is, due to a glitch or two, I had to start the entire contents of this chapter from scratch. In any case, I hope you like it.

Chapter 5

We're getting out?

3 days later…

Floyd's POV

It's been a month or so since my incident and even though I've made it clear that the wrist band I developed for Susan is NOT a sign that she can return to a normal life, she keeps insisting that Dr. Cockroach try and return her to a normal height. True, due to some modifications I had made to the device, she can now either switch between normal size and her giantess form rather easily throughout the day, but the one thing that stays constant is the need for a thirty minute resting period after an hour's amount of strain on the battery. Not that it's that much of a blessing: I always warn her to wait at least fifteen minutes after the resting period is over, as using the device too much too soon could short it out entirely.

In any case, I feel that her condition is similar to my own, the only difference being the way the energy in our bodies seem to function. My red-colored energy seems to require a trigger, kind of like a car being jump-started, in order to reach any sort of significant levels: without it, you could probably wait a century and it STILL wouldn't do much of anything. Meanwhile, Susan's blue-colored energy seemed to not need any trigger at all to be nearly off the charts, but with a bit of effort, it can be brought down to reasonable levels. Only problem is that, like my own, the energy coursing through the veins of my old friend doesn't seem to have any clear upper limits and that it seems there are spikes in the levels depending on our emotional state of mind.

Well, in any case, I can understand her desire to be cured, to be normal. This MAY be the only reason I support her decision to go through with these experiments; well, besides the fact that she's my best friend, I mean. That's right: somehow I can get past all her complaining and/or the recent changes and see the kind, caring, beautiful, brave, and selfless girl I met at summer camp all those years ago and…I said beautiful in there, didn't I?

Don't get me wrong: she's always been quite the looker, even in her youth, but ever since Fran died, I was fairly certain I'd never love again, especially after that letter I got. It seems that shortly before her death in the hospital, where she was being treated for her injuries, she'd written a letter outlining how she loved me, but was unable to continue being my wife. Long story short, she wasn't necessarily afraid of me, but that she couldn't see our lives continuing the way we'd hoped now that things were different, both literally and metaphorically. She also had the nerve to say that she hoped I would find the happiness I deserved, though I can sort of understand what she meant by that.

In any case, however, I know that being cured is an impossible dream, seeing as I've attempted to cure myself at least a few dozen times or so, only to be met with failure. Then again, perhaps I'm being pessimistic. Well, only one way to find out, I suppose. In the meantime, however, I've got other things on my mind.

Missing Link's POV

"Touchdown in sequence," stated Floyd, his lone card closely guarded to keep it safe from prying eyes in the not-quite-official weekly round of Moon Landing (author's note: card game I made up that's basically a mash up between "Go Fish" and "Crazy Eights"; rules will be explained later). Deciding to press my luck, if only slightly, I directed my attention at B.O.B. "Do you have any Threes?" I asked with a smirk as my favorite way to win, aka Insectosaurus, delivered the goods. "Yes, I do," my favorite sucker said with amazement, "How are you doing this? You're the luckiest guy I know."

Snickering as Floyd inadvertently revealed his lone card to me during his breathing exercises to suppress what I'm sure was frustration at how dense this guy was, I chuckled. "Luck's got nothing to do with it," I replied honestly, only to have MY cards have a brush with exposure as Dr. Cockroach came by and swiped the antenna of the radio we were listening to. As I rubbed my temples, I felt myself tempted to have the human side to Leviathan teach me some of his stress management techniques, since I could use them these days.

2 hours later…

Well, I wish I could say I was surprised when the experiment didn't work, but I was more frustrated that I hadn't bet money with Floyd on it failing. As Susan stated that they'd just have to try again tomorrow, I'd finally had enough. "You don't get it, do you?" I deadpanned, "Nobody is leaving: nobody has ever gotten out of here!" As the General came here proving me wrong I could have sworn that Floyd looked less enthused about the surprise update then Susan did.

To be continued…

Author's note:

First off, for those who wish to know the rules of my "Moon Landing" game: two to five players; two piles of cards, one face up; step 1) draw a card; step 2) ask if one of the other players has a specific card number; step 3a) if they do, you can lay down cards, the maximum being three, that match either the number or suit of the card laying face-up; note: laying down two or three essentially being wild card, but producing three results in turn order being switched; step 3b) if requested card is not found or you are unable to lay cards down, you have the option to say "Refuel" and have a new card drawn; first person to no longer have any cards in their hand wins; note: while not necessary, when you have only one card in hand, you can say "Touchdown in sequence," as well as "The Eagle has landed" once you've won

Also, I know I skipped the part on the Invisible Man, but I can't be the only person who finds it creepy that they never moved a dead body, invisible or otherwise. Anyway, anyone care to guess what happens next? Don't be shy: there are no wrong answers (B.O.B.: We're going to Disney World!) I stand corrected; oh well, everyone guess anyways.


End file.
